


Sweet and Sassy

by Goodneighbor_Neighbor (Fan_by_Proxy)



Series: Commonwealth Kinks [2019 Prompt List] [10]
Category: Fallout 4
Genre: Alcohol, Barebacking, Creampie, Drunk Sex, Drunken Kissing, F/M, Making Love, Penis In Vagina Sex, Rough Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-10
Updated: 2020-05-10
Packaged: 2021-03-02 19:08:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,537
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24101860
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fan_by_Proxy/pseuds/Goodneighbor_Neighbor
Summary: After an evening drinking with the girls, the Sole comes back to Hancock past ready to go; and he's more than happy to indulge.
Relationships: John Hancock & Female Sole Survivor, John Hancock/Female Sole Survivor
Series: Commonwealth Kinks [2019 Prompt List] [10]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1727050
Comments: 6
Kudos: 32





	Sweet and Sassy

“Ooh, if you think he’s charming now, you should’ve seen him when he was  _ smooth _ .” Irma purred, popping the chipped crystal top on the decanter and pouring another round of shots. The mostly-clear liquid came from her own private still with a mash she’d been grooming since before there were lines on her face. She laughed as the cutie ice queen winced and shook her head. “Squeeze that tarberry into it, it takes the edge off sweetheart, I promise.”

Magnolia, on the hand, didn’t need to dress her shot; just chase it with a swallow of water to help it move down. “It’s a shame I missed that; you always say he was something to see.” She stretched, catlike, and set a gumdrop on her tongue for the next shot.

“He is still something to see!” Yvette managed to get out, fanning her face as yet more of Irma’s “Sweet-n-Sassy” splashed into her shot glass. “ _ You _ are either trying to kill me, or seduce me, and if you make me to choose, I hope it is the second one.” she hiccuped.

Irma laughed. “Well you wouldn’t be the first to offer, sweetheart, but I wonder about your taste.” she teased. The cutie ice queen made a noise somewhere between a quack and a question, which set Magnolia and Irma to laughing heartily.

“It’s nothing against  _ you _ , honey,” Magnolia said, “it’s just that you’re a Ghoul-chaser and that means your tastes are a little different from ours.” 

Yvette hiccuped again before answering. “I am  _ not _ a Ghoul-chaser! What even does that mean, I chase  _ no one _ except people who try to steal my things.” She tried to jab her finger into the table to emphasize the point and wound up poking straight into a strawberry-ish Fancy Lad. “Oh!” it was a pleasant surprise when she lifted her finger to find (to her drunken state) a magically appearing snack.

“No, honey, a  _ Ghoul-chaser _ \--you, somebody who tends to go for the uh…well the Ghouls, over regular guys.” Magnolia explained.

Yvette blinked, focusing on her face. “A man is a man is a man is a man, whether he is smooth all over or not. Smooth?” she blew a long raspberry. “That is as fleeting as clean hair on a rainy day!”

Magnolia rolled her eyes, and Irma cocked her head. “You’re telling us that you  _ really _ believe there’s no difference between a Ghoul-guy and a smooth guy?” Irma asked, this time only giving the cutie ice queen half a shot; they had only  _ just _ broken out the Sass after two bottles of wine, and it amazed her that the cutie could put wine away like it was nothing, but proper alcohol had her all kinds of loosey-goosey. 

“As long as he is good-looking and passionate and not a lazy fuck, then what does it matter how he feels as long as he makes you feel  _ good _ ?” Yvette demanded.

“Look, Hancock’s charming, but good-looking  _ now _ ?” Magnola said. “I mean…just the,” she gestured to her face to indicate the missing nose, “isn’t a  _ little _ unnerving to you?”

“Well what is sexy in a man?” Yvette replied, managing to knock back her little half-shot without getting it up her nose or down her chin. “Broad shoulders? Firm chest?  _ Very _ strong, clever fingers? Yes.” 

“I can agree to that.” Irma said.

“Ok?” Magnolia added.

“ _ Ooh _ , and strong lips. Very strong, just meant to kiss you all over until you cannot breathe.” Yvette’s chin dropped into her hand, a dopey smile spread across her face. “And a  _ fantastic _ cock that just goes all night.” she sighed.

Magnolia sputtered over her shot, sprinkling the table with drops of the Sass. “Ok honey, you’ve got me curious: what’s it like?”

Irma poured another round and then set her elbows on the table so she could sit just as cute and coquettish as the cutie ice queen. “Be thorough when you describe it.” she teased.

Yvette managed another shot and sat up straighter on the crooked pile of pillows she was using as a seat. “ _ Jean _ is the most  _ perfect _ length; always noticeable, but not so long we cannot try different positions because he stabs me too hard.” She held up wobbly hands a respectable distance away. “And just enough around that when he tickle my throat, I can almost not breathe but not want to throw up.” Yvette made a circle with her fingers to show the general girth, holding it up to her eye and looking at both ladies through it.

“You know, I would’ve thought he’d be bigger.” Magnolia replied.

“Well that’s not exactly a mini-missile he’s slinging.” Irma snorted. “But it’s not smooth, right? I mean Ghouls scar  _ all _ over, right?”

Yvette nodded, eyes closed and missing Magnolia swapping her own glass with Yvette’s. The well-sauced Vaulter took the shot, missing the smear of Magnolia’s lip color on the rim.

“ _ Terrible _ .” Irma whispered, stifling a giggle as Magnolia shushed her.

“It is  _ such  _ good texture!” Yvette declared. “You know some men, they have a very hard head,  _ beaucoup très dur _ \--like getting a pelvic exam if you go the wrong angle with it.” she hiccuped. “His is so cute and round and soft, it is a little kiss before you feel the rest of him.”

Magnolia stifled a laugh. Getting this kind of detail on the good mayor was something she hadn’t exactly counted on but it was wildly entertaining…even if she was going to write most of this spiel off, considering how drunk the poor girl was.

“See, it is almost like a juicer? But not sharp?  _ Dur _ still but,” Yvette groaned, “he starts to move his hips and he can tease everything and the man is  _ obsessed _ to make you come, I love it.” she declared.

Irma snorted. “He still got the thing about beer bottles?”

Yvette’s eyes went wide. “You  _ know _ about that?”

“Well I know Johnny from a ways back sweetheart; he had a reputation for watching even before the uh…ya know.” Irma said lightly.

“Beer bottles? Really?” Magnolia sipped her water.

Yvette’s head wobbled in agreement. “He is like a dog watching meat cooking if you play with yourself for him.” she hiccuped. “Makes him crazy, he gets horny and jealous and then it is for  _ sure _ to go all night then.” she laughed, feeling warm and cozy. It had been  _ so _ long since she had a sit-down with good girlfriends to talk the way men thought they never did. Even before the bombs dropped and the world changed, it had been  _ so _ long. 

“ _ Actually  _ all night?” Both of Magnolia’s eyes went up in surprised. “On one go or?”

“Oh no, no--he can maybe make,” Yvette made a jerking-off motion while blowing short raspberries, “Six good times if it has been a few days since the last time we go to all night; three and four are his absolute typical? But if he is not hard but still hungry--fingers, tongue, bottles, one time even an ear of corn--he does not quit until you do.” she said brightly.

Magnolia’s mouth dropped open and she shook her head, mouthing ‘wow’ at Irma.

Irma knew her expression about perfectly mirrored Magnolia’s. “No wonder you’re walking funny sometimes, sweetheart.”

“ _ So worth it _ !” Yvette declared with a snorting laugh. 

“Ok, but is it true what some people say--that a Ghoul guy’s sticky is  _ different _ ?” Irma asked, leaning in eagerly.

“Mmmmm it is thicker, maybe? Or maybe it is just that  _ Jean _ is so much.” Yvette shrugged, finding the shot glass in front of her full again, so she drank it; this of course was Irma’s in a playful copy of Magnolia’s earlier sneakiness. “And it feels warmer.” she nodded.

“You don’t worry about rad burns down there, honey?” Magnolia asked. “I mean if you’re going at it like a doe-and-stag and all.”

Yvette shook her head. “Nope! Because it is not  _ so _ strong,” she rubbed her hands together briskly and then laid one on Magnolia’s arm and the other on Irma’s hand, “like this different? And  _ Jean _ is so considerate--he makes me to take the RadAway and Rad-X regularly and always has a clean wash cloth, because he is  _ so _ sweet and careful.” 

Magnolia patted her hand. “As long as you’re having fun, honey.” she snorted. “I think I’ll just keep it smooth, ya know?”

Irma kept quiet.

“Smooth,  _ bah _ !” Yvette hiccuped again. “Smooth is so easy to breakup--my husband, my husband was a smooth. Then his Power Armor blew up, and,” Yvette made a bursting motion with her hand next to her face, fingers flicking strongly, “not so smooth. But still those great big shoulders, and that big strong chest, and those good hands.” she said dreamily. 

“Sounds like a dish.” Magnolia replied. “ _ Him _ I’d like to hear about, but it’s late and if we give her much more, she might die on your pillows.” She said in a bemused tone to Irma. “How about another time, huh girls?”

Irma nodded, putting the crystal top back on the decanter and getting up, smoothing her dress down. “Come on ice queen, we’ve got to get you home.” She moved behind Yvette and put her hands under Yvette’s arms to hoist the girl to her feet.

Yvette whooped, leaning back against Irma as she wobbled. “You are  _ so _ strong.” She tipped her head back to look up at Irma. “Like a movie star.”

It didn’t make much sense, but it’d be a lie for Irma to say she didn’t enjoy even a soused little ice queen looking up at her like she was one of the Nuka poster girls. “Let’s get you home.”

“But if we are only three, how will we walk each other to home safely?” Yvette bubbled. 

“It’s  _ not _ that far, and there’s the Neighborhood Watch, honey.” Magnolia pointed out, getting up and straightening her own clothes. She had a nice, warm contented buzz going that was only slightly ruffled by Yvette’s salacious crowing.

“ _ Non, non, nonnonnon, _ ” Yvette managed to balance on her own two feet with Irma’s help, “it is the  _ principle _ ; you take your girlfriends home after a good night so you know they get there safe and know you love them.”

“Magnolia, go and get Kent for me?” Irma couldn’t help but laugh. “Ok sweetheart? We’ll bring a  _ big strong man _ with us, and nobody winds up walking home alone, ok?” She laughed again at Yvette’s enthusiastic double-thumbs-up. 

Magnolia rolled her eyes but did as Irma asked.

After getting Yvette to the Old State House and pointed up the stairs, and Magnolia back to her little corner paradise, Irma and Kent strolled back towards the Den slowly. His cheeks were still mottled red and purple from Yvette’s enthusiastic double-kiss to each cheek goodnight. Irma kept peeking at his face. “You’re still blushing, Kent.” she teased softly.

“Am I?” his fingers went up to touch his cheeks. “Yeah, yeah I guess I am.” Kent let out a wobbly, embarrassed laugh. “She’s real funny when she gets juiced, huh? I hope she gets upstairs ok.”

“Oh Hancock’ll look after her.” Irma stopped, cocking her head.

Kent made it two steps ahead of her before realizing there wasn’t the steady tap-tap-tap of her boot heels with him. He turned around. “Something wrong, Miss Irma?”

“Tell me something Kent…back in the old days, like you and our ice girl used to know, how would you walk a girl home?” She asked, hoping to sound just casual enough.

“Oh uh…” his face managed to get darker. “Well uh…I mean a gal and a fella, walking like we are, I uh…well I’d um…well I’d give you my arm, and you’d hold onto it, and I’d make sure not to walk too fast, so you didn’t have to rush or hurt your feet keeping up.” Kent put a hand on his head, bruising the folds of his hat. “I’m sorry Miss Irma, I wasn’t giving you good manners, was I?” he managed to get out without a stammer, shuffling back to her and offering her his arm. That was what she wanted, right? Him to show some manners--and he should be. Miss Irma was a lady unlike pretty much all the others, and he should be smarter about respecting that fact…even if she made him as nervous as a Radstag out in the open.

Even when she stood flat-footed, Kent was still about a foot shorter than her. He stammered, and he was hung up on the past (although it was getting better, with the Vaulter’s help). But he blushed so freely around her, and he always called her ‘Miss Irma’ and tried to treat her like she was a little slip of a thing, even though she wasn’t. Irma took his arm. “Walk me home in an old-fashioned way, Kent, and I can forgive you.” she purred.

“Yes ma’am, Miss Irma.” Kent said, trying to walk taller. Miss Irma’s stride was a lot longer than his, and he’d probably be huffing by the time they reached the Den, but he’d try to keep up. That was the fella’s job, after all.

“ _ Jean _ !” Yvette cried, banging open the door and posing against the door frame. 

Hancock looked up, taking a moment to appreciate the cock of her hip and the length of her leg as she hung in the doorway; the hair falling into her face and the way she was focused--even blearily--on him. “Oh, you’re pretty sauced, beautiful. Irma give you some Sass?” he asked, getting up to go help her inside the room.

“Mmm hmm.” Yvette nodded wobbly before throwing her arms around his neck, kissing him hard. She rolled her tongue into his mouth as she rose up on one foot so she could hook the other leg around his waist. 

He groaned; she was so slithery and hot, tasting like fruit and fire, hooking onto him and rubbing up against him like a cat in heat. “Hey, hey, lemme get the door closed, beautiful.” Hancock managed to get out before her lips went to work on him again. He managed to pull her inside and push the door shut before she fastened those pretty little lips on his neck and started working the scar just under his right ear in a way that about took him off his feet right there. Something about that spot, or the way she would nibble and suck at it, it just sent all the blood right to his cock. “ _ Goddamn _ , beautiful, lemme getcha to the bed at least.” Not that Hancock had any issue taking her up against the door, or over the couch…it was just when she was so loose, he liked getting her down and keeping her down.

But then she looked up at him with that bratty little pout: brows together, lower lip all puffed out, giving a little huff through her nose. 

Hancock’s hand moved without thinking, giving her ass a sharp slap that made her jump, even through the clothes. “Bed, beautiful.” he growled.

Yvette licked her lips, hands sliding along his neck and to his chest before pushing him back hard. 

Startled, Hancock pinwheeled his arms to try and keep balance, but the back of his thighs hit the arm of the couch and he went back on it with a startled shout. “Beautiful, what the  _ hell _ \--” he started, but then she was on him, straddling his hips and grinding as she undid the buttons on her dress and shrugged out of it. Then it was just her, in short gray slip, hair wild around her face and shoulders, grinding on him like she was trying to start a fire. “Alright, beautiful, you get  _ one _ .” he snarled as he reached up and grabbed her throat to get her attention.

Feeling Hancock’s warm, strong fingers on her throat and seeing his frustrated snarl only revved her up further. Yvette reached down to try and get his pants undone.

She wasn’t pulling away; if anything getting held by the throat was only making things better for her. Hancock’s free hand reached down as he pressed his hips up into her clumsy hands and her grinding, feeling around for cuffs or cord or something; it seemed to be that kind of night. Instead his hand closed around a belt--her belt, from another dress, lost on another crazy night. He grabbed it and snapped his wrist, popping her hip sharply. Yvette gasped, eyes wide, thighs trembling.  _ Goddamn _ she looked good enough to eat! “Get your beautiful ass on that bed,  _ right _ goddamn now.” Hancock growled. He gave her another pop, just to feel her writhe. 

The belt stung like hell, but in her boozy state, Yvette took it like another way for Hancock to mark her up, leave the little bruises he liked to leave on her to count in the morning. She was about ready to burst at that thought. Yvette managed to get off of him and the couch and stagger to the bed, pulling the slip off and dropping it carelessly on the floor. She landed on the bed and rolled onto her back, one foot on the floor and the other on the bed, resting back on her elbow as her free hand went down to play with herself. In her hazy state, she couldn’t remember the last time she was this ready for any man, let alone the one stalking towards her with a belt in his hand and a gleam in his eyes.

Hancock watched her fingers disappear into her puss, heard the sloppy wet sucking and squelching as she started to pump them, eyes on his face. Just the idea she could play with herself while eyeing him was going to drive him goddamn crazy. Pulling his clothes off meant missing the visuals, but even inside his shirt, Hancock could hear her and smell her excitement and the little happy noise she made once his pants were gone; it damn near put him over the edge. Hancock picked the belt up again and cracked her sharply on the inner thigh; not too close to her beautiful fingers but definitely on a soft spot. 

Yvette yelped.

“Ass up or I’m gonna keep hittin’ you there.” Hancock panted, shivering as she rolled obediently over, one beautiful leg stretched long to keep toes on the floor, the other knee on the bed, that big beautiful ass he’d spent way too goddamn long theorizing what it  _ actually _ looked like under the clothes pointed right at him. If he’d been a little calmer, he’d’ve taken a hit of Jet before sliding into her, just for the forever-feeling of getting all wrapped up in her. But Hancock wasn’t calm; he was bottomed out and grabbing a handful of that soft dark hair to yank her head back. “Comin’ home drunk and sloppy wet?” Hancock cracked the belt against one cheek and nearly busted as her puss clamped down on him when she jumped. “Damn near broke my skull trying to get on me?” He lied, cracking the belt on her again. Two welts stood up bright red on that round white globe, and while he’d probably feel guilty in the morning, right then it just made him want to light her up. “This what you want? You glad you came in like that, huh?” he taunted, laying another couple of welts on her before starting to thrust.

Yvette couldn’t answer, struggling to hold her pose for him even as the orgasm started to mount; she felt it building in her toes, in her neck, all over her body as Hancock ground into her and whipped her and taunted her. She could only press back into him, try to tell him with her body how  _ very _ glad she was to be there right then.

Hancock groaned as her weight shifted back onto him, nearly tipping him back a second time. She was  _ so _ goddamn strong sometimes! Had a kick like a pissed-off Brahmin, could launch herself at somebody for a tackle and hit like a mini-nuke, and had nearly choked him out a couple of times while he was taking the oral road between her thighs…it was just incredible. Hancock bent over her back, letting go of her hair to get his arm around her and press his hand to her chest, feel the crazy beat of her heart as he started to thrust. That was another strong part of her, that heart of hers, beating against his hand as she yowled and threw herself back into him. Hancock kissed the side of her head and nipped at her ear as he did his best to  _ really _ fuck her--not just get her off on his cock but leave her all marked up for the next few days.

Yvette came with a scream and a soaking gush of slickness. Everything was on fire; her head, her stomach, her hips and ass, her pussy--some of it was the booze and some of it was the sex and a lot of it was the belt, but the biggest part of it was the sheer joy of not holding back. She was too soused to be self-conscious.

The scream startled him but the sudden flood of wet down his thighs had Hancock confident he hadn’t gone too far. If anything, he hadn’t gone far enough. “Gonna be a  _ long _ night for you, beautiful.” Hancock growled in her ear, dropping the belt to put his hands on her back and push her into the mattress, hold her in place while he thrust madly for his own finish, not even thinking to pull out until he’d unloaded deep inside. Then Hancock rolled her onto her back pushing her thighs apart to get his fingers down. “Ain’t stoppin’ till we gotta switch beds.” he snarled, two fingers in as deep as they could go and thumb on her clit; it was already puffy and swollen like they’d been at it a while, but that just meant it was painful to touch and that’d set her off too. Then he spotted the beer bottle on the nightstand. “On second thought, beautiful…” Hancock grinned, reaching for it with his free hand.

By the time they were both spent and wrung out, Hancock had used the bottle on her so much the label was illegible. Towards the end, when all she could do was moan and make cute little spurts when she came, he’d gotten a couple of fingers in beside it and wound up nutting on her thighs at how stuffed that got her. It was probably pretty fucked up, trying to stretch her like that when all she could do was lie there and take it and make more puddles, but he couldn’t resist. The mattress was soaked; they were  _ definitely _ going to need to swap out to one of the other beds because nobody would be able to avoid the wet spot that night.

Yvette woke up sore from head to toe, especially between her thighs; and with a pounding head to boot. She turned to look at the shape next to her; they had hiked the covers up pretty far, but she could see a very scarred, bald head on the pillow. Panic welled up, hot and fast.

Then Hancock turned over, and grinned at her. “Good morning, beautiful.” 

She breathed a sigh of relief and swatted him. “ _ Asshole _ \--you scared me.”

Hancock snorted, sitting up and looking down at her. Goddamn, even hungover she was beautiful; no red touching those Atomic Blues ™ , just heavy dark lids and clumped together lashes to go with her red chapped mouth and wild tangled hair. He twisted, grabbing a can of water and a box of Mentats off the table nearby. “Here--you sayin’ I’m too ugly to look at first thing in the morning? Or did you think you had some other lucky bastard in here?” he teased, offering them to her.

Yvette took the water first, sipping to wet her mouth before taking the little handful of Mentats Hancock poured out for her. “Look, it would not be the first time that maybe after too much to drink, I was not in the right bed.” she admitted, sucking on them first. 

Hancock watched her mouth work; even when she wasn’t hungover or feeling off, she almost always sucked on the brain candies to soften them. He didn’t know how she could stand the tingling on her tongue for that long, but…well she had a strong tongue too. “You saying I need to watch out for you if you’re drinking for real?” It was a casual question, she could take it as a joke if she wanted…but Hancock also knew no matter what she’d said, he’d start watching a little harder around her. Wasn’t any shortage of guys in the Commonwealth who’d see a dish like that get loose and go to help themselves, after all.

“ _ Non _ . I am aware of this for myself; it is why I drink so very little if I do drink.” Yvette said pointedly.

“Hey…beautiful, I’m only kidding, alright? You do whatever the hell you feel like doing.” He hadn’t meant to strike a nerve, hadn’t realized there was a nerve  _ to _ strike. So Hancock kissed her temple by way of apology. “You have a fun time last night? I mean with the girls.”

Yvette nodded. “It has been almost quite literally forever that I have had that kind of time; the last time I can remember, I was not even married yet.” she said.

“Shit, you  _ did _ need to go have a good time, that’s like…fuck, more than 200 years.” Hancock snorted.

She nodded again and leaned on his shoulder. 

Hancock kissed the top of her head. “So you have a good time talking about…fuck, what do girls talk about when it’s just them?” he teased.

“Everything.” Yvette closed her eyes, sipping slowly on the canned water.

Ok, either she was being literal or she was messing with him. “Oh, everything huh? Anything good come up?” He couldn’t fathom what was included in ‘everything’ for girl-talk, and couldn’t help being curious.

“You did. They wanted very much details,  _ and _ I kind of maybe spilled all the dishes.” Yvette said with a snort.

“Me? …am I gonna be able to look them in the eye later?” Hancock joked.

“You should be proud; your stamina is legendary, after all.” Yvette replied.

“Well I’m glad you talked me up. Now how’d it even come to that?” He was being nosy; probably  _ too _ nosy. It was going to backfire for sure, but Hancock couldn’t stop himself.

“Ah, we were talking about this and that, and somehow it came around to Magnolia saying that I am a Ghoul-chaser? And therefore my tasting is perhaps questionable?” Yvette shrugged. “Then they were trying to explain to me what it meant, because I did not understand--English things, you know,” she said as she sat up and tried to wriggle the kinks out of her back, “and then I was explaining to them that what matters for me in a man is universal, and then they wanted to know specifically to you what I liked, and I told them…in graphic detail.” 

“Ah.” Hancock said in a non-committal tone. Maybe it was one of those conversations you had to be there to hear; Yvette didn’t seem insulted in the slightest but she had already said she didn’t quite get it. But, still, just hearing his gal being called out like that…well it didn’t make Hancock too happy. 

“See, I explain to them that  _ un, _ ” Yvette said, holding up a finger, “Smooth is relative and does not last forever anyway. Fire, accident, rads, age-- _ le tour est joué _ .” She took another sip and added another finger. “ _ Deux _ ,what is fine in a man is fine in a man no matter what kind of man he is so long as he is not a total asshole, and  _ finalement _ ,” she dropped her hand, “Stamina counts.”

Hancock couldn’t help but give a snort of laughter. “Ok, ok…so what’s so fine you can’t say no to?”

Yvette looked at him and smirked. “I am  _ absolutely _ the weakest for broad,  _ strong _ shoulders…” she purred, twisting a little to plant a little kiss on the curve of his shoulder. “You have  _ such _ good shoulders  _ Jean _ , they beg for me to hang onto.”

For as hard as they had gone last night, Hancock couldn’t help but feel the rush down below, listening to her purr over him. “Oh they do?”

She nodded. “ _ Oui _ …and you have such a nice, firm chest. It is the kind of chest that begs someone to rest their head on and feel safe and small.” Yvette ran her hand all over his chest lightly, slow and methodical. “And these  _ lips _ you have  _ Jean _ …” she murmured, moving carefully to straddle his thighs. “I cannot resist them.” Yvette set the can of water on the table nearby and cupped his face, kissing him slow and taking her time to make sure every inch of his lips felt hers. She traced the shape of them with the tip of her tongue, caught the bottom lip between her lips to pull playfully, kissed from one corner to the other. 

By the time she’d finished laying her mouth all over his, Hancock was panting. “You have no idea how glad I am these are still on me right now.” he tried to make a joke of it, but the way she was looking at him; it was just as passionate, as needy as last night…except she was pretty sober. She was looking at him like he was the only man in the world for her, and she was doing it sober.

“I love your mouth. Not just because you are  _ so _ clever with it,” Yvette said with a smirk, kissing him again, “but because you are so quick to smile, so quick to speak your mind, so gentle with your words to people who need you to be…” she kissed him again, this time slipping her tongue past his lips. 

Hancock couldn’t even manage a moan; he froze, feeling her tongue just twining with his, teasing the roof of his mouth. It was a gentle, exploratory kiss, like she was dead-set on mapping out his mouth and committing it to memory. When she pulled back, there were a couple of strings between his mouth and hers; he couldn’t believe she had him worked like that.

Yvette licked her lips. “Lie back for me  _ Jean _ ? Let me take care of you.” she pressed his chest lightly.

He obeyed, lying back with his hands behind his head to watch as Yvette rose up on her knees and wrapped a hand around him, gently stroking and then guiding him inside of her. She was still a wreck from last night, soft and sticky and he was pretty sure he could feel some of his sliding out of her even though he’d tried to do a decent clean up. It wasn’t a  _ new  _ feeling per se-- but there was something different this time. He wasn’t getting back inside of her after a wild night with permission, he was being  _ invited _ back in--Hancock wasn’t even sure why he was making the distinction, that there was a distinction to even make, but there was.

She was sore, but the way Hancock slotted in, the way he fit so sweet and right even after a wild night…it all lent itself to one of her favorite kinds of making love: the slow, just-woke-up, more-about-touching-than-coming kind of lovemaking. 

Hancock reached for her hips, licking his lips. She was moving in slow, tight circles, eyes closed and running her hands from her stomach down over where they were joined to where she could reach on him. She looked…she looked so  _ goddamn _ content. Carefully, Hancock got his feet on the bed, knees behind her, wiggling his hips and getting ready to push up, to get active.

“ _ Jean, mon coeur _ , relax.” Yvette murmured, leaning down to kiss him.

He didn’t know what ‘moan cur’ meant in English, but the way she said it gave his insides a hard twist. Hancock wrapped his arms around her, kissing back, popping his hips up and relishing the little gasp he drove out of her. “Want you just as much as you want me, beautiful.” he murmured.

Yvette nodded, settling on top of him and settling for grinding against him slow and easy and feeling him thrust up gently. He had to be just as tired as her, even if  _ petit-Jean _ was as active as ever, but he seemed to be just as keen on being close than trying to really start anything. 

It was so warm and slow…Hancock hadn’t had a gal all slow and warm like this since before he’d left Diamond City; it wasn’t what  _ he _ did. But here he was, all wrapped up in a beautiful gal that couldn’t seem to get enough of him. Hancock groaned. “Might get off just doin’ this.”

“ _ Bien _ ,” Yvette whispered, kissing his chin, “yes, just like this.” The last word disappeared in a weak moan as she managed to come; held tight, grinding against his body, his cock curved just right with their position.

Hancock shuddered at that. He didn’t think he really had anything left to put in her after the night before, but damn if he didn’t feel a few little drops come out. He hugged her tighter.

She didn’t move, eve as he softened and slid free. “Your eyes too, I love.” she murmured after a while.

“Huh?” Hancock was dazed, a little unnerved at how content he felt in the moment but ready to revel in it. Then it dawned on him; she was still on their earlier conversation. “My eyes, huh?”

“Oh yes.” Yvette raised up on her arms to look down at him. “Everything was too bright before the bombs to see the stars overhead; when I left the Vault, it was so confusing to see the sky as it is now: like black velvet rolled in glitter. But it is so beautiful to me now that I see it…and your eyes are like that too. Big, and dark, with such light in them.”

Goddamn it, she had him blushing; Hancock could feel the blush from the top of his head to at least halfway down his chest. His eyes weren’t that kinda pretty--they were blown-out like a lot of Ghouls. It wasn’t stars, it was probably chems. But like hell he was gonna correct her; only a real moron corrected a beautiful gal that thought that much of him.

She smiled. “So now you know why I am so weak for you.” 

Hancock chuckled. “Alright, alright. So maybe some stuff does carry over, I’ll give you that.” he ran his hands up her back. “Just uh…ya know, lemme know if somebody else calls you a Ghoul-chaser, alright? It ain’t--I mean I’m sure Irma and Mags were just teasin’--but it ain’t the nicest thing to say.” He said.

“Why?” Yvette cocked her head.

“Well uh…see you, you’re talkin’ about a whole guy, right? Somebody who’s a Ghoul-chaser, ya know they’re…they’re really only in  _ because _ it’s…well ya know, it’s kinky. Naughty, not a thing you’d tell your ma, you know?” Hancock was struggling to break it down to where she’d understand, however she made words make sense. “It’s the idea, not the person.”

“ _ Oh _ ,  _ je comprends _ .” Yvette nodded. “Like a linguaphile.” she kissed his chin again and then got up. “ _ Merde, mal comme un salaud!”  _ She said with a laugh.

“A what?” Hancock sat up slow and got ready to follow her. 

“Oh--someone who gets excited for foreignness? Like everything about a person who is foreign gets them excited as long as they think it is foreign. It is very creepy to deal with.” Yvette stretched, then looked around. “…why are we in this room?”

Hancock snorted. “Because, beautiful, the bed was too wet when we got done.” He laughed hard as Yvette’s face went dark red and she covered her face with both hands. “Relax, bathroom’s over  _ this _ way.” he said, wrapping his arms around her and shuffling her out the door and across the hall to the bathroom with the showers. After the fun and the clean up, Hancock had smuggled her across the way from his room to the room she used to camp out in when they weren’t an item and he had her staying with him. She always liked the room across from the bathroom that looked out over the corner of the neighborhood.

Yvette shook her head when she dropped her hands and saw the mirror over the sink. “ _ Really, Jean _ ? I look like you tried to murder me.” she lightly touched the bruises on her neck; some were finger-shaped but most were hickeys. 

“Well…don’t look down, beautiful, we had a rough night.” he said cheekily, giving her bottom the lightest pat before moving away from her to start the showers. “Make it up to you by getting your back?”

Yvette snorted. “Well…I will have to pay you back by washing your front, because it looks like you have argued with a Deathclaw and lost behind you.”

“Yeah, but she was a looker.” Hancock said with a wink, holding his hand out to her. She took it with a giggle.

After a giggly shower and pulling on some clean spare clothes, Hancock walked her to the middle stair case. 

“I think I will make us some breakfast…” Yvette trailed off, noticing the Neighborhood Watchman on duty trying to avoid looking at them. “Ahm…did I throw up on anyone?”

Hancock shook his head. “No.”

“Try to fight anyone on duty?”

Hancock coughed into his fist. “No.”

Yvette made a noise. “If I make enough breakfast for everyone here this morning, can we call it all evens and go on with the day?”

Mugsy nodded. “I could eat.”

The other guys looked at each other, then at her, and nodded. After getting it straight that the mayor and his squeeze hadn’t actually been trying to murder each other, they’d spent the rest of the time trying real hard to ignore the noise…and sneaking off in turns to take care of the inadvertent stiffies that came from listening to some folks having a  _ real _ good time. 

Hancock laughed.

“Breakfast it is.” She kissed Hancock’s cheek again and started down the stairs. The cobbled-together kitchen in the very bottom of the building wasn’t the greatest, but she would manage.

Hancock leaned over the railing, watching her go down. Mugsy came to stand next to him. “Everything good, Hancock?” he asked.

“Oh yeah Mugsy.” Hancock straightened once her pretty dark head was out of sight. “Everything’s  _ great _ .” He turned around and got ready to face Fahrenheit’s crankiness at having to wait until damn-near lunchtime to go over the Neighborhood business for the morning.

**Author's Note:**

> WOOF! Drunk!Yvette is a hilarious thing to write. Also if it's not clear, I'm also down for Irma/Kent because I just think they'd make a cute couple.  
> Timeline-wise, this is still relatively early for my Sole and Hancock; testing limits, still sometimes holding back, but still on that good communication because that's what makes them work so well :D


End file.
